Now's the Time
by SaharaTea
Summary: This story is from Carrie's POV and imagines what might have happened if she had accepted Quinn's offer to join her in Missouri. "Now's the Time" is the name of a Charlie Parker recording. Will probably end up as two or three chapters.
1. Chapter 1

"You want me to join you? I could fly out."

Carrie chewed on her bottom lip while a million thoughts went through her mind. This seemed like a bad idea. Or was it? She sat there awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

"Carrie, you there?"

_Fuck it_, she thought.

"Yeah. You don't mind?"

"Of course not."

"Well, it would be nice to have the company. But Quinn - I haven't made up my mind. In fact I'm kind of a mess right now, so -"

"Don't worry, I get it. Text me your location."

Several hours later Carrie flew through the door of her hotel room. She was on a fucking mission now and she sure as hell wasn't staying here. Hurriedly throwing toiletries in her bag, she took out her phone and dialed Quinn. He picked up on the first ring.

"Quinn - where are you?"

"Kansas City airport, about to rent a car."

"Good. Listen, stay in Kansas City. Find a hotel downtown. I'm on my way. I'll meet you there in three hours."

Carrie could see the incredulous look on Quinn's face at the other end of the phone. "What?" he said.

"Just find a hotel. I'll explain everything when I get there."

Dusk was falling two and a half hours later as she approached Kansas City. A text came in from Quinn.

"Marriott Downtown on West 12th. Room 523. And I got another room for you."

Carrie smiled. Things had changed since the conversation with her mother, but she appreciated Quinn's chivalry all the same. It couldn't hurt to try something new and take it slow.

A few minutes later Quinn opened the door to his hotel room, and she practically flew into his embrace.

"Hey!" he said, shocked at the fierceness of her embrace.

"Hey," she whispered, hugging him tightly. He was warm, and smelled of soap and aftershave. She could have stayed in his arms forever.

"You ok?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for coming." She released him and stepped back, tucking her hair behind her ears. Damn, how was it possible to look that good in jeans and a simple navy button-down shirt? _Calm yourself, horndog, _she thought.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," Quinn replied, smiling. "What happened with your mom?"

She sighed. "It's a long story. I'll tell you all about it. But in the meantime...I'm starving. I need some of those ribs Kansas City is famous for."

"Ribs it is. You wanna drop off your stuff in your room? It's just down the hall, room 502." He handed her a plastic keycard.

"Great. I'll meet you downstairs in five."

Alone in her room Carrie changed into a fresh shirt and jeans, gave her hair a quick brush, and applied a fresh coat of lipstick. Her stomach was doing back flips, and it wasn't just hunger.

Downstairs the concierge directed them to a ribs place within walking distance. As they headed out the doors into the evening, Quinn silently took her hand. The gesture took Carrie off guard, setting off a chain reaction of tingling nerve endings throughout her entire body. She gave his hand a squeeze.

"You ever been to Kansas City before?" she asked.

"Once, when I was a kid. Don't remember it really. You?"

Carrie shook her head. "No. I always wanted to though. You know, Charlie Parker was from Kansas City. Bebop was basically born here." _Fuck, I'm babbling_, she thought.

"I like Charlie Parker. I'm more of a Miles Davis guy myself."

Carrie raised her eyebrows, impressed. She had no idea he liked jazz. She realized she could count on one hand the number of personal conversations she'd had with Peter Quinn.

"Well, I have a crazy feeling there might be a jazz club _somewhere_ in this city," she said sarcastically.

"Outlook is good," he laughed.

Forty-five minutes later they were wiping messy barbecue sauce off their hands and faces as Carrie wrapped up the story of the visit with her mother.

"The thing is - I never thought I could be with anyone long-term, because what's the point if they're just going to leave you eventually? That was the example she gave me."

"And now?"

"Now -" She sighed. "I don't know what to believe. I want to be with you Quinn, I really do - but…" She shook her head. "You deserve better."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

Carrie persisted. "Why _me_? A guy like you could get any woman he wanted. One who isn't, you know, a mental case."

"I happen to like challenging women. Call it a weakness."

Carrie rolled her eyes. "Well, you've certainly got your work cut out for you."

"Listen to me," Quinn said, suddenly serious. He folded his arms on the table and gave her a look so intense she thought she might crumble into dust right there. "I don't want anyone else. I want _you_."

Carrie's breath caught in her throat. They stared at each other like that for a few moments, frozen, before the waitress finally interrupted.

"Can I bring you two anything else?"

"No, thanks." Quinn said. "Actually, yes - where's a good place to see live jazz around here?"

Carrie couldn't help but grin. This would be an interesting night.


	2. Chapter 2

A few hours and several drinks later, they wandered into a downtown plaza with a large fountain. It was a warm evening and Carrie was pleasantly buzzed. The mellow notes of a solo saxophone drifted towards them courtesy of a busker playing across the plaza.

In between sets at the club Carrie regaled Quinn with stories about her dad, Maggie and her nieces, even about Frannie. He listened to all of them with intense interest and asked lots of questions. When the band was playing she couldn't help but sneak several looks at his gorgeous profile. She was having a great time and felt like a schoolgirl again.

It wasn't until they were leaving that Carrie realized she had pretty much monopolized the conversation. He had said barely anything about himself.

"So who got you into jazz anyway?" she asked as they sat down on a bench across from the fountain.

"One of the few things I can thank my father for," he replied.

"Where's your dad now?"

"Passed away a long time ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Carrie, feeling foolish for hitting a sensitive subject.

"Don't be, he was a drunk asshole."

"What about your mom?"

"Mom remarried another asshole. We, uh, drifted apart after I joined the agency. My job wasn't exactly something she could brag about to her country club friends."

Carrie nodded. She had seen those types of parents at Georgetown. If you didn't graduate _summa cum laude_ with a medical or law degree you could forget about making them proud. It made her grateful for her father's acceptance of her career despite his reservations about the politics of it.

"No brothers or sisters?"

"Just a couple step-siblings. Haven't seen them in years."

_Jesus_, Carrie thought. Quinn had no real family, no one to come back to. No wonder it was so difficult to quit the job. She remembered that he had a son whom he hadn't seen in a long time. She had a million questions about that, but thought better of it.

"So how did you get recruited anyway?"

"Dar Adal recruited me out of Harvard senior year. I was like 15 credits away from graduating. I suppose I didn't see much point in finishing at the time."

Carrie suddenly realized neither of them had ever known a "normal" adult life outside the agency.

She swallowed nervously and turned her gaze to the fountain, its multi-colored mist gracefully bending back and forth. "Are you worried about what happens next?"

"Going back to the hotel? Not really," he deadpanned.

Carrie shook her head. "I mean...do you worry that a normal life won't be enough?" She tried hard to picture Quinn the ex-assassin being satisfied commuting to an office job every day and doing yard work on the weekends. It didn't quite jive.

Quinn turned on the bench to face her. "Clearly _you're _worried."

"You told me once that the job was like a drug."

He looked down and cleared his throat. "A habit I'm trying my damndest to kick. But I'm not interested in talking shop tonight. Come on." He stood up and offered her his hand.

She smiled and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Where are we going?"

Quinn didn't reply but led her across the plaza closer to the sax player. He pulled her into his arms and began swaying back and forth.

Carrie had to suppress a little chuckle. He was really turning on the charm. _Who knew this guy was such a romantic?_ she thought. The sax player began playing the familiar strains of "The Very Thought of You."

With her left arm resting on his shoulder and her head in the crook of his neck, Carrie felt the stubble on his lower jaw brush against her face and found it an incredible turn-on. The way he smelled was driving her crazy too - that intensely masculine mix of soap & aftershave - now with a slight whiff of bourbon. Hyper-aware of his hand on her lower back, she closed her eyes and quickly forgot about their prior conversation as they moved together slowly.

After a few moments Carrie couldn't take it anymore. She turned her head and began placing a trail of soft kisses on his neck, moving upwards. She felt Quinn's breathing start to quicken. She moved her head and met his gaze, lost in the depth of his blue eyes. He lowered his head and began kissing her, gently at first, then stronger and more insistent. She felt his tongue enter her mouth and felt her entire body go up in flames. It was enough to make her momentarily forget they were in a public place.

She broke off the kiss, breathing heavily. "Let's get out of here," she whispered.

Quinn wordlessly dropped a couple bucks in the sax player's case before taking her hand again.


	3. Chapter 3

Quinn hesitated before opening his hotel room door.

"We don't have to do this, you know."

The look in his eyes was sincere, but the notion of waiting any longer was so preposterous that Carrie had to stifle a laugh. An army of fucking terrorists couldn't keep her out of Quinn's bed tonight.

Without breaking eye contact, she took the key card from him and slid it in the door. She stepped inside and held the door open expectantly.

Quinn followed.

Not bothering to turn on a light, Carrie grabbed him by the neck and began kissing him furiously. They stumbled towards the bed, ripping off each other's clothes. Carrie fell backwards, getting a very good view of Quinn's finely-tuned arms and chest as he crawled over her like a jungle cat. He was already hard as a rock. He lowered his mouth to her breast as the lights of downtown Kansas City shimmered through the open drapes.

* * *

><p>A while later Carrie was tangled up in the sheets, gazing up Quinn's naked form as he stood on the bed. She was laughing so hard at his impression of Dar Adal she thought she might burst a blood vessel.<p>

"And then he said, "Either shit or get off the pot, Peter!" Quinn scrunched up his face and stuck his lips out.

"Shut up!" Carrie exclaimed, still laughing her ass off.

"Swear to god," Quinn said. He dropped down on the bed while Carrie's laughter subsided, and watched her run a weary hand through her hair.

"You look tired. You should get some sleep."

Carrie sighed and looked at the clock. It was 3 in the morning. She had barely slept since the night of her father's funeral.

"You're right. We should head home tomorrow. I feel bad leaving Frannie with Maggie for this long. What time is checkout?"

"11. Don't worry, I'll wake you up in time."

Quinn switched off the bedside lamp and enveloped Carrie in his arms as they stretched out under the sheets. She rested her head on his chest, warm and content. Quinn gently stroked the top of her head.

A few moments of silence passed before Quinn spoke again.

"So are we really doing this? You and me?" He sounded so vulnerable and hopeful, like a little boy.

Carrie opened her eyes and propped herself up on one forearm.

"You're not getting rid of me now," she said softly, resting her palm against the side of his face.

Quinn pulled her in for a deep kiss. As he adjusted the sheets so that she could slide her body beneath his, Carrie happily resolved to sleep in the car tomorrow instead.

* * *

><p>Thanks for the reviews everyone! Carrie and Quinn obviously have significant issues to work through before they can have a successful relationship. I've tried to keep those issues in mind while writing this. Still keeping my fingers crossed for a happy ending for these two. I also apologize for the lack of smut - I would have liked to include more, but I just don't have the gift for writing it!<p> 


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